Hey guys! This is my second Heya fic, and I hope that you enjoy it! Please don't hesitate to drop a review. Constructive criticism is appreciated. If I owned these people, A. That would be illegal and B. I would not be sitting here writing this. I thought that was obvious. Anyways, without further ado, hopefully I didn't scare you too much and you've decided to read it, so carry on!



"I need a lullaby, kiss goodnight,

angel sweet, love of my life.

Oh, I need this."

- Natalie Merchant, "My Skin"

"Your old iPod creeps me out," Naya observes, rifling through a box of Heather's old things.

Heather rolls her eyes. "And what happens to be so strange about it, Ms. Modern?"

"It's like...Not touchable."

"Not touchable? There's a useful adjective."

"You know what I mean, Heather. It, like, doesn't have a touch screen. It's from...like...2007."

Heather smirks. "It's good to know that all of my old possessions are satisfying to your needs. By the way, have you ever noticed that you say 'like' a lot."

"But that's just the thing," Naya counters. "They don't satisfy my needs. And, like, oh my God, I, like, totally have like, noticed. Like, oh my God."

"Geez, Naya," Heather comments, a laugh bubbling in her throat at the brunette's appalled valley girl face, "learn how to take sarcasm - and how not to say 'like' so often."

Naya lies back down on her stomach, her heart overcome with love and joy, and reaches back into the cardboard box, fingering old cards and letters and the occasional set of broken rosary beads. She lifts a pair out of the box and holds them in front of her face.

"Aren't you, like, supposed to bury these or break them up completely if they like, break or something?"

Heather takes the beads her hands, ignoring the brunette's blatant stab at her comment about her speech. "I know you're supposed to, but you know, they were my dad's so, I just didn't want to."

"Oh," Naya says quietly. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Heather says, just as her phone goes off with the buzz of a text.

Cory: Ryan says we need to be on set at five tomorrow.

"Shit," Heather mutters and sets her phone back on the table.

Naya looks at her. "What's wrong?"

"Ryan says we need to be on set at five tomorrow...According to Cory." Heather clarifies with a roll of her eyes.

Naya scoffs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I know, right?"

Naya resumes her position on the floor and continues rifling through the cardboard box before pulling out a ripped envelope with tearstains still embedded in the generic Hallmark card.

"Dear Heather," it reads and Naya wants to gag at the sickeningly sweet line the card company had provided underneath the greeting. "You are the honey to my bee." And then, another handwritten line. "I hope that your doing okay. I know this is hard on you. Just wanted you to know that I'm here for you."

The half-Latina snorts and begins laughing at the cheesy line as Heather snatches the card away from her. "Shut up! Taylor gave that to me!"

"What's with the tears? Isn't this supposed to be him telling you he love you or something?"

Heather looks down. "That was right after my dad died. Y'know, hence the message."

"You seem to have a lot of that sort of stuff in there, y'know, except for the ancient iPod," Naya says, trying to chance the subject away from death and Taylor.

"The iPod is fine, Naya! And besides, it's not like I use it anymore. And leave the card alone!" Heather says, trying not to laugh.

"Oh, crap," Naya whispers, feeling her chest tighten. "Heather, I'm so sorry. I totally forgot that my mom was coming over for dinner tonight."

Heather smiles in a disappointed sort of way like she did something wrong and gets up to walk her to the door as Naya gathers up her possessions and slips her sunglasses on.

"No problem, I wasn't planning on doing anything for dinner tonight anyways...maybe make Ashley cook me something, 'cause, you know..."

Naya hesitates before placing a hand on the doorknob. "Are you sure? I can call my mom."

Heather smiled again before replying. "Yeah, I promise, Nay. I'll be fine."

"Okay," Naya concedes before walking out the door into the crisp evening air. "See you tomorrow. Bright and early."

It's only after Naya leaves that Heather realizes that Naya's mother is not coming until the day after next, and that the iPod is missing.


Naya pulls the Range Rover out of the driveway, her hands white against the steering wheel. The brakes squeal against the concrete as she sleepily watches for cars in the black early morning.

As soon as she reaches the studio, Ryan rounds them up in the choir room so they can finish work for an episode that's supposed to air week and a half from then.

Naya wants to fall asleep right then and there, and she already sees Mark trying to shut his eyes in the corner, so she knows she's not alone. Heather looks like she wants to murder somebody, and Ashley is awake and alive, her eyes wide open like she just had a big jolt of espresso.

Naya wishes she had that capability.

She zones out, barely listening to Ryan as he rambles on about how there are still scenes to shoot for "Prom Queen" and that Darren has to hit the recording studio to begin "I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You".

But Naya wants to know what she's doing on the set at five in the morning and she kind of wants to punch Ryan in the face for making her do so.

As soon as he releases them from what Chris likes to call the "early morning dungeon," Naya pulls her coat against her body and ducks her head down to shield herself from the wind as she makes her way to her trailer.

"Heather and Naya," the front of the trailer reads, and just reading that this early in the morning can make Naya smile usually, but she just pulls her coat against her tighter and rips the door open, only to be greeted by a friendlier temperature.

"Heather?" Naya calls out, hoping to ask her friend if she wants to go out to lunch with her at some little bistro off the lot that the cast were regulars at.

No response.

"Heather?" she calls out one more time, but when she gets no response, she hangs up her jacket, takes out her book and waits for further instruction.


Heather trails along Kevin's path to his trailer until he finally turns around and asks her what she's doing.

"Yes," she says, kneading her hands, "well, I bought this book the other day and I wanted to start it, but Naya's probably asleep on our couch and..."

"HeMo," Kevin says gently, "you don't have a book with you."

Her eyes go wide for a moment and she fumbles with her speech. "Yes, well, um,"

Kevin puts a hand on her shoulder. "Something's wrong, bee. Come with me."

"No," Heather insists, picking her nails. "Nothing's wrong. Nothing at all."

The younger man rolls his eyes and grabs her arm. "Something's wrong, Heather," he says firmly, and then he drags her to his trailer.

Mark's in there, doing some kind of drawing, and Kevin sits down just as Mark's phone rings and he picks up and exits the trailer to finish the call.

"What's wrong, bee?"

The blonde sits down and runs her fingers through her hair, sighing loudly.

"It's Naya, isn't it?"

Heather spread her palms apart and directed her eyes towards Kevin. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Kevin stifles a laugh. "You're in love with her. Doesn't take a genius to see that. Doesn't take a genius to see that she's in love with you too."

"Kevin, I have a boyfriend."

"I know, HeMo, but that doesn't mean you're any less in love with her."

Heather stands up, her hair flaring out, almost hitting Kevin in the face. Her eyes are dilated with anger and her fists are clenched.

The man steps back, his hands up.

"Who are you to tell me what my feelings are? You don't have any idea what's going on in my head right now! You don't know if I'm in love with Naya or Taylor or anybody else!"

"Okay, okay," Kevin apologizes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed."

But Heather's eyes are already swelling with tears. "No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped."

"You're in love with her aren't you?"

Heather falls into him, hitting his chest with her fists and pointing a finger to him. "I'm not in love with her! I'm not! I'm not! I'm not!" she chants as her words become more and more garbled and she begins sobbing against his chest.

Kevin tangles his fingers in her hair, stroking her head lovingly as she trying to perceive the difference between her imagination and her reality.


Ron, a young runner, pops his head into Naya's trailer before telling her that Telly heard from Ryan that she's needed on set. She lets out a loud sigh before grabbing her bag and heading over to the set.

"Wait, Naya!" Ron calls as she turns around, her foot tapping in impatience. She doesn't mean to act like a diva...It just...Comes out.

"Yes?" her tone is demanding and she feels bad at once, but she doesn't have much time for that with all that's going on in her life.

He looks embarrassed and that makes her feel worse, but she powers through it and waits for his response. "Usually Heather's in there with you. Do you know where she is?"

Her eyes change into a calmer stance as Ron questions Heather's whereabouts. "Sorry, don't know. Haven't seen her since we got here."

"S'okay," he mumbles.

"Hey Ron?"


"I would try some of the other trailers before checking around the buildings. She doesn't like our couch."

"Okay, thanks Naya!"

She waves over her shoulder.

Eric and Ryan are already moving around props and cast members in the faux choir room like they're inanimate objects, but Naya sits in the middle trying to blend in and adjusts her hair in hope that she won't have to interact with anybody.

"No, Naya," she hears and looks around to see Eric directing her to another spot on the floor. "You're sitting next to Heather."

"Oh," she mumbles as she moves, "sorry."

"Okay," Ian calls out. "Where are Heather and Kevin."

"Probably doing the dirty in our trailer," Mark jokes.

Naya snaps. "Shut it, Salling!"

He puts his hands up in mock defeat. "Oh, I'm so sorry for making a joke."

"Just watch it!"


The knock comes on the trailer door just as Heather's pulling her hair back and trying to smear the streaked makeup off of her face.

"That's not going to work, HeMo, you need to go get Eryn to redo it." Kevin says as he opens the trailer door.

"Yeah, I know," she sighs as Ron tells Kevin that they're needed on set.

"Okay, tell them Heather'll be a few minutes though. She needs to go by Eryn to get her makeup redone."

"Yeah, okay," Ron says, shutting the door before Kevin reopens it and he and Heather walk out.

The blonde turns the opposite direction of Kevin out of the trailer to head to Eryn's.

The older woman, distinguishable by the pink streak in her hair gives her a hug as she walks in. "Honey, what happened?"

"Don't want to talk about it," Heather says under her breath and Eryn obliges by not saying another word as she begins to remove the smeared makeup and apply new foundation.

Heather sinks down a little in the chair and takes a magazine from the counter. Nothing interesting. And by interesting, she means nothing with Naya in it.


Heather walks onto set, fully dressed in the in the wardrobe department's request scarf as Ryan directs her to a spot in the choir room and Naya stares at her, scrutinizing her like there's nobody else in the room.

The half-Latina leans over to Heather, whispering in her ear. "Just so you know, I didn't lie to you."

Heather clenches her fist and whispers back, almost inaudible to Naya. "We'll talk about this later."

Naya prays that scene films fast.


"Okay, so what is this now?" Heather paces up and down the trailer, throwing her hands in the air. "You didn't lie to me? Wow, Naya, you didn't lie to me? What else is next? You didn't take that old iPod out my box of old stuff?"

Naya looks up. "Okay, I'll admit to that one."

"Isn't that a felony in some places or something?"

"I was borrowing it!"

"Doesn't borrowing require consent?"

"I just wanted to see the damn thing!"

` "And you couldn't have asked, Naya? Geez."

"I was in a hurry. Remember? My 'mother'." Naya says, making air quotes.

Heather almost laughs. "Yeah, your 'mother!'" she repeats. "You told me that you're mother wasn't coming until the day after next when we were talking!"

"That's why I made the quotes, genius," Naya retaliates. "My sister was flying in two days before my mom. She came over for dinner."

"Fine. Fine. How come you never told me about this?"

"It just didn't occur to me."

"And how did it 'just occur to you' that you had her over for dinner while we were talking? And how did you 'just mistake her' for your mother?"

Naya sits down, opening her book. She looks up from it long enough to say, "look, I'm done talking about this. Go back to Taylor or Kevin or whoever the hell it is you're fucking now."

"I'm not fucking anybody! And give the fucking iPod back, Naya. You had no right to take that!"

Naya doesn't respond and before she knows what she's doing, Heather exits the trailer, her face crumpling just as Jenna sees her.

But as Heather sobs for the second time that day, this time in Jenna's arms, feeling helpless, Naya wonders how she's the one stuck with a lone tear rolling down her cheek in the trailer with nobody to comfort her.

She pulls out Heather's iPod from in-between the couch cushions.


She doesn't mean to be all emotional as she scrolls down the list of songs on the iPod, but she can't help but notice that there's three hundred or songs or so, all of them having to do with something in Heather's life.

All of them are songs that Heather had told her that she had wanted to use on So You Think You Can Dance or in classes or just meant something to her. "Single Ladies" is the most memorable, along with a few other older Beyoncé songs.

But Naya scrolls past to find her version of "Songbird" on there, and when she scrolls back up the Glee version of "Landslide" is there - so glaringly obvious that she doesn't know how she missed it.

Heather must use the old iPod a lot more than she says she does, Naya decides.

"To keep an iPod full of memories..." Naya murmurs.

She keeps scrolling up. "Hello" by Evanescence is there, a song she remembers Heather using in one of the dances on her YouTube channel. If Naya said that she hadn't Googled Heather when she met her, she would be lying.

Naya scrolls back down only to find the Glee cast versions of "Me Against the Music," "Slave 4 U," and "Toxic." She remembers wiping away Heather's happy tears as she blubbered about Ryan telling her she got to do Britney.

As Naya scrolled through the memories, the sound files of "Landslide" and "Songbird" brought back memories of how Naya wanted to reach out and kiss the blonde.

It dawns on her, but the idea isn't clarified. Nothing's clarified, in all reality.

But Naya begins the habit of thinking that Heather gets butterflies when she sings those things.

Perception is reality, after all.


"Give me the fucking iPod!"


"Naya, it's mine!"

"I was just looking at it!"

"Do you want me to get Chord to pry you off of it?"

"No! I just wanted to look at!"

"Dammit, Naya, just give me the iPod!"

"You use the damn thing a lot more than you told me, don't you! Songs from last episode, huh?"

Heather slumps down on the couch. "So you saw them...All the songs?"

Naya nods slowly. "We've got to stop pretending, Heather. We're not going to get anywhere. I lied to you because I was scared and I thought of the first thing that popped into my mind. We've got to stop acting so casual like we were doing the day I discovered the iPod..."

"I just like the song, okay?"

"I was open in front of you, and now you're shutting me out. There are issues in the world, Heather. Honestly, I can't even believe I'm being the rational one here."

The blonde caresses her head in her hands. "I just like the fucking song, Naya. You have a good voice. If you noticed, those are songs that pertain to memories."

Naya chokes back a laugh. "Yeah, I noticed. But...You don't have 'My Cup' or 'P.Y.T.' on there or anything else that you did with Kevin pertaining to Bartie."

"Kevin's got a great voice, I just didn't want to put them on there. You're making assumptions about me...That is not rational."

"So you can say this about the cast and gush over your boyfriend, but meanwhile I have nobody to turn to. You had Kevin or Jenna or whoever to comfort you, but here I am, crying in my trailer alone."

Heather looks up. "How is that even relevant?"

"I just feel like everybody's on your side."

"Naya, I was the seeker of comfort, whether it was direct or indirect. But, I did seek it out."

Naya walks a few strides before opening the trailer door. "I wish we could talk when we aren't in denial," she said, looking directly in Heather's eyes, "but I suppose that's never going to happen."

"Stop making this harder than it needs to be, Naya."

"I'm not," Naya concludes. "I just want to have some peace of mind once in a while."


"You know I have feelings for you. Stop denying that you don't have feelings for me."

"I don't have feelings for you, Naya. Stop trying to tell me I have them. Control freak."


Work is like hell. The cast is at their wit's end due to Ryan's ridiculous demands that they get to studio early in the morning to wrap up filming before they fly to New York to do the finale and Naya's at her wit's end due to the ever-growing Brittana storyline. She can't look Heather in the eye without feeling heartbroken and she can't look at Ryan at all without feeling homicidal.

Amber and her have the make it into the studio to record "Dancing Queen" and even though Naya knows the song, she still hasn't listed to it enough to get it down right for Nicki and her husband.

Zach has given her and Max awkward choreography for the prom shoot and Naya can't help but feel uncomfortable as she slaps the ape's butt from the back. How very heterosexual.

Lastly, she has to shoot a scene with Heather. It isn't very hard to make herself cry, the slight mascara fleck resting on her cheek, her eyes sad. Her eyes have always been sad for the past week.


"Hey, bee." Kevin says, walking up to Naya during a break. "Are you okay?"

She feels her eyes light up forcefully. This is where the acting comes in. She plasters on a fake smile and responds cheerfully. "Yeah! I'm fine, why would you think something's wrong?"

But apparently her acting skills aren't as good as she thinks they are, and Kevin confirms it by commenting on the lame attempt.

"Great ego lifter, Kevin," Naya mutters.

"Bee," Kevin says, pulling her into a hug. "Tell me what's wrong. I already know Heather's side."

And as he pulls her into his trailer as Mark shoots a scene, she falls on his couch and into his arms. She lays there in his embrace, eyelids fluttering closed even though she never falls asleep.

"I just want to rest, y'know?" she starts, the rest of her confession on the tip of her tongue. "I can't sleep, just thinking about her. It makes me restless. And sometimes when we're alone she denies it all and then she acts like things are okay. And then if Taylor gets brought up, I have to shrug it off as if things are okay and make up an excuse to leave. I have to lie to her, Kevin."

Her voice is wavering, but her eyes remain dry as she continues. "I hate lying to her. It makes me feel like shit, and then she catches me in the goddamn act and fuck, I can't do this." She finishes as she lets her tears flow.

But Kevin doesn't make a sound. He pulls the half-Latina's head against his chest and strokes her hair and wipes away her tears in such an intimate position that people would've thought they were in love. But they weren't. They were just Kevin and Naya. Naya and Kevin. Nothing more.

"I think," Naya says, her voice sounding as if she's underwater, "I think I'm gay."

Kevin just nods as she buries her head farther into his chest. "I think that I've always known. That I've always known, but I was too far deep in the denial area to ever acknowledge it. Y'know, Mark's the only guy I've ever dated. He was a gentleman, so I took advantage of it. 'This is a way to hide myself' I said. But now, I realize that I'm really no different than Santana."

The younger man voices his first opinion. "You're not a bitch."

Naya shakes her head, her ponytail tickling Kevin's arm. "But I am," she chokes, her voice hitching. "If I hadn't fallen in love with Heather none of this God-awful mess would've happened and I tried to get her to confess her feelings for me and I keep telling her that she's in denial. And I do this. And I do that. Everybody thinks everything's my goddamn fault."

"Naya," Kevin says, tilting the brunette's chin so that her eye's found his. "You are beautiful. Inside and out. There is nothing wrong with your feelings. Never apologize for your feelings. Even to Heather. You're beautiful. Being in love with Heather does not define who you are. It's just a tiny, miniscule fraction of who you are. You're the same girl who curses constantly when she's sick or sad or drunk and you're the same girl who ate chicken wings before her Maxim shoot and still looked hot as hell and you're the same girl who always drops the slushy cup before you try and throw it with your right hand even though your left-handed. You're all of that and more and you're in love with Heather."

Naya looks up at him, her eyes bright and shining. "Everything's just so screwed up."

"I know, Naya, I know."


Heather's in her little green dress for the McKinley prom, and Naya's finding it extremely hard to concentrate during their scene as she stares at the blonde's legs.

The filming is tense. The whole crew can feel it and as Lou rushes in with a lint roller to roll it over Heather one more time just in case, Naya can see her whisper a nearly inaudible "good luck" to Heather. It makes Naya want to vomit Heather's openness with everyone else.

The scene films quickly. Heather hands her the tissue and Naya flinches unnoticeably when their hands touch and takes the paper as the director yells cut.

The lines stick in Naya's head. "It's just a stupid crown. You can buy one at the party store." It's just a stupid iPod. You can buy one at the Apple Store, or you know, Best Buy or some other electronic supply store.

But there's so much meaning in those two objects, Naya decides. Santana wanted the crown to get Brittany to be with her by royal decree. Naya wanted the iPod to see if Heather was hiding anything from her. Granted, it was something minor, like, was she using as much as she said she was, but it didn't seem to matter anymore.

Way too many secrets were kept in such simple objects. Like horcruxes, kind of, Naya thinks as she smirks silently before deciding that it's not the right time to be blatantly referencing Harry Potter to herself. Kevin's wrong. Santana and I are way too similar.


Heather's doing her hair in the trailer before noticing that Naya had left the iPod on the desk with a Sticky Note.

I'm sorry. I'm the one in denial. I'm not going to force you into anything anymore. I promise. Please accept my apology. I love you.

Love, Naya

Heather tore off the Sticky Note before stuffing the iPod in her purse, her voice filling the void of silence and emotions as she reaches the surface.

"I love you, too, Naya."



Heather's hesitant, her eyes darting wildly and the unconscious wringing of her fingers.

"You're breaking up with me, aren't you?"

The blonde opens her mouth. "What, who told you that? I never said anything like that."

"It's her, isn't it?" Taylor finishes. "Naya."

Heather opens her mouth to protest, but as she looks at the glance she's getting from her soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend, she drops her head and nods.

"If I told you that it didn't hurt, I'd be lying, but I know that you love her. The mouse kisses, the hand-holds, the denial."

"You saw through the denial too?"

Taylor nods, biting his lip.

"I hope I'll see you sometime, okay?" he says, leaning over to peck her cheek one last time. "Go get your girl. Tell Naya that I tell her that she's a very lucky woman."

"Okay," Heather nods, looking at his eyes. "Okay."


Naya's shooting "Dancing Queen" with Amber, Chris, and Darren and the rest of the cast when Heather bursts through the crowd and sweeps Naya into a kiss.

The whole set is silent until Chris lets out a cheer and everybody begins clapping as Naya blushes and kisses the girl she loves back and grabs her hand as she buries her head in Heather's shoulder and lets a tear of finalized relief out.

"I love you, Naya." The blonde admits, breaking the surface of deep denial.

The brunette murmurs the "I love you" back and settles into her woman's arms before Ryan starts yelling about delayed filming.

Naya thinks that she ought to write Zach a personal thank you note for bring Heather to the show. It can wait, she decides as she sends a glance towards Heather on the dance floor.